Somewhere, they are playing baseball for keeps. Football season is rolling. The Major League
Soccer playoffs are looming. And the days are still long enough and warm enough to squeeze in 27
holes, depending on your choice of beverage.

It is a wonderful time of year for a sports fan, especially this week. The puck has already
dropped in Europe. On Thursday, the Detroit Red Wings headline a slate of curtain-lifters with a
game in Toronto. On Friday, the Blue Jackets face off against the Stars in Dallas. Hockey season is
upon us, thank Howe.

For those who aren't quite ready to stash the cargo shorts, stow the golf clubs and cover the
Weber, I offer Jackets coach Ken Hitchcock to light your hot stove. He is among his sport's
ultimate salesmen, and he has a hockey-centric vocabulary that is all his own. He will talk us back
to the rink.

Here, then, is the Hitchionary, an abridged collection of Hitchspeak. Let us clear our heads as
we reach for our sweaters.

Compete: It is not on the list of the 500 most-used words in the English
language, but it is in Hitchcock's top two, ranking only behind "the." According to the Hitchcock
ethos, to compete is the greatest virtue. A fourth-line winger who competes is held in great
esteem, but a sublimely skilled scorer is nothing if he is not "engaged." And a player who takes a
bad penalty is not lame-brained, he lacks "competitive composure."

Dig in: When a whole team is competing, it is dug in. When the fans are
behind the team, and engaged, the fans are dug in. If you don't dig in, things get "loose." You
don't want things to get loose.

Heavy: This does not refer to Grant Fuhr's training-camp weigh-in. Heavy is
good. A heavy player is one who has a notably positive impact on a game. A heavy player is a one
who draws notice. A Gordie Howe hat trick -- goal, assist, fight -- is intrinsically heavy.

Light: A light player is not competitively engaged and, by extension, lacks
competitive composure. Recently, "light" has been replaced in the Hitchexicon with the word "dozy."
(To grasp the heaviness of "light" and "dozy," see "weighty" below.)

Leadership: The intricacies of "leadership and followship" are at the heart
of Hitchcock's professional quest. It is why he studies the Civil War. Why do soldiers charge over
a wall to face a fusillade they know is coming? Who and what compels them? On the ultimate
Hitchcock team, there are a few lieutenants in the locker room who can lead a company off the bench
and into the heat of heavy competition. The rank and file will follow, and engage, out of duty to
their brethren -- even if they hate the general.

Rich: When skill and competition are meted out in equal amounts, the game
is "rich" -- sometimes "too rich" for one player or another.

Reckless: Hitchcock helped ruin free-flowing offense with the defensive
schemes he implemented in the mid-1990s. Other coaches followed suit and made the neutral zone a
heavy no-man's land. In part to salvage his legacy, Hitchcock had to come up with an offensive
countermeasure -- and like all of his great ideas, the countermeasure is more psychological than
real. How do you score in today's NHL? You have to be reckless. Hitchcock uses Alexander Ovechkin
as a classic example. Ovechkin will risk decapitation to get to the net. He will dance on the fine
line of competitive composure. His copious skill is almost secondary.

Skate: On the bench, this is Hitchcock's clarion call after every turnover
(outside some other, heavier words).

Snake: As in, "cut off the head of the snake." To beat the Penguins, for
example, you have to cut off the head of the snake, Sidney Crosby, the most reckless player on
their team.

Weighty: The well-dug-in player who competes for his teammates, who is
heavy, who leads or follows in the direction pointed by the coach, who is reckless enough to revel
in a rich game, well, he is part of a many-headed snake and deserves to be called weighty.